Hunger and worship get tangled together in this short poem. The speaker calls out to a cook, asking to be "woken to ourselves," as if eating were a way of coming back to life, or of remembering what we really are. Then comes the central image: "my belly is a church / bell ringing to eat." A growling stomach becomes a bell calling the faithful to gather, and the body itself turns into a place of worship.
The title, "The next supper," nudges us toward the Last Supper, and the closing line, "by Jesus our supper," seems to blur the meal with something sacred. Judging by the wording, the speaker treats food as more than fuel. It is communal ("us," "our") and almost holy.
The mood is playful but sincere. There's humor in comparing hunger to church bells, yet also a quiet reverence for the simple act of sitting down to eat together.